


Don't you want to play?

by Sansastarklives



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, what smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:14:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansastarklives/pseuds/Sansastarklives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abigail waits for Hannibal to get home from work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't you want to play?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever Hannigail fic.

      Abigail walked through his home, her bare feet soundly dragging on the floor beneath her. Shivers crawled down her spine as she moved, but that could have been less to do with a chill in the room, and more to do with the fact the only clothes she had on was Hannibal's unbuttoned shirt and a pair of lacy panties. The house was always empty when she woke, staying that way until the sky was dark and the moon growing high. She usually spent her time writing away or visiting the few people she now knew. That day Abigail simply slipped back into bed, burrowing her head in the soft cotton of her pillows, until she fell into a dreamless sleep.

      A gentle shaking jarred her from her sleep, her blue eyes darting open to see her guardian knelt down beside her, a small smirk on his lips. "Have you been asleep all day, Abigail?" He asked, his hair stroking her dark hair. She nodded, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before pulling him to sit on the bed beside her, burying her face into his chest. "What am I going to do with you?" He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

     "I missed you, Daddy." She scrambled onto his lap, joining her hands behind his head as she covered his face in gentle kisses. "And I'm not sleepy anymore." She whispered, playfully. Her fingers danced along his clothed chest, making her way down to his trousers, barely brushing her fingers against his groin. There was a deep groan within his chest as he melted his lips against hers.

      "Perhaps _I'm_ tired, Abigail." He hummed, rising his brows. 

      "Then you should lie down, Daddy." She pushed on his shoulders until he lay on his back, straddling his hips. "I just thought you might want to play." She pouted, her hand tugging at the button of his trousers, slipping beneath the fabric to grip his length. "Don't you want to play?" Hannibal groaned, his hand lifting to brush against the underside of her breast. His other hand fell between them, pushing her panties as the side to rub lazy circles against her clit, smiling at the wetness found there.

      "What am I to do with you, miss Hobbs?" He laughed, quickening the speed of his fingers to match the rise and fall of her hand. Abigail would have replied with a simple ' _fuck me_ ' but Hannibal would have thought that rude. It was strange how he didn't might her slipping into his bed, laying beneath him night after night, calling him  _Daddy_. She had never imagined herself to behave like this, calling a man by such a lewd name. Never imagined fucking a man old enough to be her father, especially when this one had played a part in her real father's death. But she didn't think of Garret Jacobs Hobbs. In these rooms it was only her and Hannibal, as though it had always just been the two of them. She knew the truth about him, of course, well she believed she did. She knew he was manipulative, she knew he had a love for Will, for Alana... She knew he was the one who called her father, who wanted to see what would happen. She knew he must be a murderer too. She knew...

       "Abigail." A voice tore her from her thoughts. Hannibal was sitting up, cupping her face in his hands, his brows merged with something akin to concern. "You must not get so caught up in your thoughts. Do you want to talk about it?" Abigail shook her head, the thoughts slowly fading from her mind. "Would you like to stop?" But she smiled, mischievously at him, pushing until he was once again on his back.

       "We haven't even started," she smirked, trying to take control. With a slow lowing of her hips, he was soon filling her, a small moan leaving her lips at the feeling of being _full_. She circled her hips in languid circles, her fingers raking across the hair of his chest, smiling down at him. She liked to think herself as dominate in this position, but the moment Hannibal's hand latched onto her hips in a bruising grip, moving them to a much faster, more appealing rhythm, she knew she was anything but. It was easy to give control to Hannibal when he whispered reassuring words from below her, keeping her grounded, out of her head. It was easy to trust him when she knew she shouldn't. Whenever you trust someone good, it hurts when they betray you. You shouldn't trust a good person, because they have everything to hide. She learnt that lesson when her father held a knife to her throat, telling her it would all be over soon. It was easier to trust the wicked, the corrupt. When you knew the worst about someone, they had nothing to hide and you knew the consequences. Its easier to trust the untrustworthy when they are just like you.

        Abigail leant down to work her lips against his neck, nipping at his salty skin with a smile on her lips. Her hips continued rocking against his with harsher thrusts, bringing her closer to her peak. As if sensing this one of Hannibal's hands released their iron grip to move between her legs, rubbing her nub. Small moans left her lips, her breaths loud and warm on his ear, her fingernails digging into his scalp. "Please." She pushed back against the movements of his thumb, searching for the bliss she craved so dearly whenever she was with him. Once she'd spoken she couldn't stop, her moans taking the form of his name, flicking between  _Hannibal_ and  _Daddy_ until she was simply making incoherent noises. 

        She came with a cry, falling limp against him, as he still worked beneath her, silent as ever. He soon followed, his teeth sinking into the soft skin of her shoulder, pinching until she could feel a small trickle rolling down her back. Hannibal wordlessly dragged his tongue across the red trail before bringing his lips to hers, with a gentleness she sometimes forgot he had. She lay like that for a long time, wrapped around him like a second skin. His fingers drummed against the small of her back, resting his chin on the crown of her head. "You have to go back to the hospital at some point, Abigail." He whispered, breaking the silence between them, but Abigail only whined. "Will and Dr Bloom would not be happy to find you like this."

       "I hate the hospital. It scares me. They are always there, always shouting at me, always blaming me." Her voice trembled slightly, but she buried her head against him to hide it. "But they're not here when I'm with you. You said you'd protect me."

       "And I will, Abigail." He sighed, holding her tigher. "I will."

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments welcome!


End file.
